Experience the Áras Éanna Ionad Ealaíne Residency through the eyes of our ISACS artists.
This year’s selected artists, Anja Nicholson and Amberlee Toumanguelov have spent the past few weeks on Inis Oirr, immersing themselves in the island’s unique landscape while developing their practice as contemporary dancers.
Below, Anja and Amberlee share personal reflections on their transformative residency experience.
Travelling on the back of a storm, we set sail from Rossaveal Port in Galway to the island of Inis Oirr. On the ferry, the waves crashed and exploded into the air, covering us in their salty, cold spray. Writing this now, it seems that first journey to a land unknown was a foreshadowing of the weeks to come.
And the weeks to come were to be revealing of self, body, and mind as natural and forceful as the waves crashing upon us on the deck of the ferry. Walking, walking, walking. We’ve walked so much. A constant eagerness to explore this tiny rock in the sea… noticing plants edible ones, poisonous ones, unnatural ones to our own mainland. Watching crows stare into each other’s eyes like a couple trying to understand the deeper realm of one another’s internal being. Greeting cows with our palms in an attempt at friendship, greeted back with a cold, wet nuzzle and a lick of the tongue.
The land and its inhabitants, mammal, avian, or homo sapien are as calm as the wind and as vibrantly rumbling with curiosity and wonder as the waves. 5 p.m. is swim club. We are joined by a seagull, stoically standing on the line of the beach where the tide rolls in to wash his feet and meet the sand before rolling back again. He is there every day with us. Along with new friends from around the world…from Australia to Montana.
We have found a great sense of clarity at the sea. Whether it’s our daily 5 p.m. swims or simply listening to and watching the waves crash violently and explode into the air like confetti. Life before Inis Oirr had been chaotic, a constant drive to work, to produce, to plan for the future. I (Anja) have never had such a chance to simply be. Each day, I feel as though I have been stripped back to my core self—realizing who I am, what I want, what I do not want. I was procrastinating to an unhealthy level on the mainland, in terms of self-care which, in turn, had a big impact on my practice. Inis Oirr has provided a space for me to exist in the easily ignored state of simply being with oneself. Healing.
Inspired by the constant greyscale of the patchwork-like walled fields and rocks and stones along the coast, the red gates, the blue gates, and the thick, hair-like spongy green fields we throw our bodies into, akin to the pods of basking sharks and dolphins who like to visit us on sunny days. We have found many windows, crevices, and portholes in these grey stone structures, some natural, some not. We find comfort in a place that, I suppose, feels comfortable for us in a residency of so much freedom, perhaps because we come from such a strict world on the mainland.
We live for today, each day.
Amberlee deepens their reflections by sharing poetic messages that weave Irish and English, capturing the sensory and emotional essence of their experience on Inis Oírr.
Coming into this residency, my background has been rooted in contemporary dance and movement research. I have mostly been based in cities, working with specific themes and ideas that can be translated physically. Being on Inis Oírr, however, I have been deeply moved by how the environment itself can shape how we think and move. Each place holds its own memory and story – the capacity to inspire, to reflect, and to reveal. On this island, that connection feels beautifully organic.
Arriving here has inspired in me a profound sense of slowing down and truly listening to the landscape. Anja and I have been especially drawn to the coast and the ever-changing waters that surround us. We swim every day and have even started a little swim club! Paying attention to the sounds of the sea, observing the soft boundaries between land, sky, and ocean – all of this has influenced us and the movement we explore during our time here. The vastness of the sea, the texture of the limestone, and the presence of both the island community and passing travellers have all found their way into our hearts.
Dancing outdoors – through the wind and rain, on spongy grass, uneven rock, and textured sand – has allowed us to surrender our set styles and intentions. We’ve returned to a childlike curiosity, to simply play. We’ve become fascinated by what we see, especially the many small bursts of red scattered across the island – the same vivid shade as Anja’s scarf! We’ve also found ourselves drawn to the idea of “windows” or “frames” in the landscape – portals that invite reflection. The island itself feels like a window: one that opens inward as much as outward, offering new perspectives both individually and as collaborators. We can all remain confined by our own limitations, or we can use these frames to focus, build, play, and create.
It has been so special to find our own ways of connecting and contributing while here. One of the most memorable experiences was an impromptu contact improvisation duet we performed in one of the island’s pubs. Our movements were followed by an open, talented group of musicians who responded to our dance with live sound. It was a raw, sincere moment – movement inspiring music – and it made me feel a deep closeness and warmth toward the island and everyone on it. There were no boundaries, no contrasts of style – just an openness to share, to listen, and to be fully present. Go raibh maith agaibh!
Rince faoin ngaoth, ar an bhféar bog, We dance through weather and light, through salt and sound, and find ourselves — again.
Mar scairf Anja, saol beo. A pop of red — like Anja’s scarf, a spark of the living world.
Trí fhuinneog an oileáin, féachaimid orainn féin — ag imirt, ag cruthú. Through the island’s window, we see ourselves — playing, creating.
This residency is developed in partnership with Áras Éanna and ISACS and supported by the Arts Council of Ireland.
Photographer credit: Emilija Jefremova
